


A Game of Poems

by princessofalderaan



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Thrawn Series - Timothy Zahn (2017)
Genre: Courting Rituals, Eli is rather forward, Fluff, Long-Distance Relationship, Love Poems, M/M, POV Eli Vanto, Pining, Pre-Book: Star Wars: Thrawn Series: Treason, Thrawn is Thrawn, but make it poetry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-15
Updated: 2020-07-25
Packaged: 2021-03-05 05:07:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25278985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessofalderaan/pseuds/princessofalderaan
Summary: Eli accidentally sends a cringey poem to Thrawn. Thrawn sends a beautiful poem back. Thus begins their back-and-forth poetry exchange that may, perhaps, bloom into a courtship.
Relationships: Thrawn | Mitth'raw'nuruodo/Eli Vanto
Comments: 17
Kudos: 58





	1. The Game is Afoot

Eli hadn’t spoken to Thrawn in a long time. Too long, considering how often he thought of that man. That man and his deliciously smooth voice...

One night, he lazed about his quarters aboard the  _ Steadfast _ , datapad in hand. Eli scrolled through his correspondence with Thrawn. Their last exchange took place some months ago, just Thrawn advising him on some obscure bit of Cheunh grammar. He wanted to message Thrawn, and see if he was okay, but... surely he would just end up inconveniencing the Grand Admiral. 

The flashing cursor taunted him. Absentmindedly, he composed a poem:

> **your eyes are red**
> 
> **your skin is blue**
> 
> **thrawn i think i like** **you**

He smiled at his half-assed attempt. It wasn’t like he was going to send it. But it was refreshing to see his feelings plainly stated like that. Not that he'd ever  _ actually _ tell Thrawn. Or act on them.

Out of habit, on his way to close out of the messaging client, he tapped Send.

_ Oh kriff. _

* * *

After a night of fitful sleep (as he hadn’t been able stop thinking about his stupid mistake and had tried repeatedly to unsend the message but had spent too long being shocked at his own stupidity) Eli awoke to a message from Thrawn. The red notification on his datapad seemed to glare at him, a single disproving Chiss eye. Like Admiral Ar’alani’s.  _ She would hate me if she knew. _

He took a deep breath and opened the message. Needless to say, it was not at all what he expected.

> **When I wake, my eyes**
> 
> **are wet. Dreams of boundless sky—**
> 
> **gone, yet still linger**

A poem? A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one. Maybe Thrawn thought he was playing some kind of game. Why else did he send back a poem?

Eli read over the poem again. It was beautiful, but the meaning was obscure.  _ Like Thrawn. _ Was it an answer? A challenge? 

His “five minutes ‘til” alarm pinged, and Eli ceased his explicating. It wouldn’t do to be late for his shift on the bridge.

* * *

Eli raced back to his quarters after his shift. Thoughts of Thrawn had consumed him the entire day, but luckily he’d been able to hide it from Admiral Ar’alani. The ever-perceptive Vah’nya had commented on his “faraway eyes” but he’d managed to get away with the excuse that he was homesick. 

That wasn’t exactly a lie. For Eli, “home” meant specific people, and not places. And the place he felt the most at home was by Thrawn’s side.  _ Have I always been this sentimental? _

He sat at his desk and picked up his datapad. Since Thrawn had answered his poem with a poem, perhaps he should do the same. But what in the nine hells of Corellia was he supposed to write? He was a data scientist, not a poet. And besides, Thrawn hadn’t really answered the “i think i like you” bit of his poem. But what the hell—why not just be more forward and declare his intentions? He’d already made a fool of himself. What was one more foolish act? 

In an attempt to make up for his prior poor-excuse-of-a-poem, Eli decided to put more thought into his next. To his surprise, the words came easily.

> **The first time I met you, I**
> 
> **Had no idea that you would awaken a**
> 
> **Ravenous desire within me. I want to be**
> 
> **Artistically done by you**
> 
> **With no care but the business of the**
> 
> **Night. Your radiance consumes me.**

He admired his handiwork, changed a couple of things, and hit Send before he could change his mind.  _ Here goes nothing. _


	2. Strings of Fate

Every time his comm or datapad pinged, Eli hoped it was Thrawn. But it wasn’t. He checked even when he had no notifications. It didn’t help that this was his day off. He spent the day alternating between pacing his quarters and playing holochess against himself, too embarrassed to show his face outside lest one of the navigators tease his dilemma out of him. 

He waited. And waited. And waited. He waited for Thrawn’s reply for what seemed an eternity. In reality, it was just less than twelve standard hours.

When the reply came, Eli was sitting on the toilet, taking a dump worthy of a Hutt. What way to better occupy his time atop the throne?

> **At birth, the stars portend our future;**
> 
> **the strings of fate glimmer and disappear.**
> 
> **Whether we treat bonds with cut or suture,**
> 
> **at birth the stars portend our future.**
> 
> **Regardless of love or fear,**
> 
> **the mandate is clear:**
> 
> **at birth, the stars portend our future.**
> 
> **The strings of fate glimmer and disappear.**

So. Thrawn hadn’t directly answered his poem, but it seemed like an answer of some kind. “Strings of fate,” talk of stars and bonds. It seemed like Thrawn was trying to tell him something. Eli felt hope spark in his heart, then fizzle again as he reread the poem.

Thrawn’s poetry was so… _sad_ ; it was filled with such yearning. Kriff, his first poem seemed to be about the fleeting glimpse of happiness a dream could give you, only for it to vanish when you open your eyes. (Eli had dreamt his share of those, many, okay nearly all, of them involving one Grand Admiral.)

Something had to be holding Thrawn back. But what? The man was an enigma. Sure, he was resolute in his commitments, but that hadn’t stopped him from becoming close friends with Eli.

 _Then again, we were kinda forced into this partnership,_ Eli thought as he wiped his rear. _I know he respects me, but he also seemed to have a purpose when he sent me to the Ascendancy. He uses people, but he also cares for them. Otherwise he wouldn’t have given me his journal, right?_

Thrawn’s journal. That’s it! There, possibly, was the key to his mind, and maybe his heart. Eli had already read it several times, but perhaps examining it closer would unearth some clues.

But right now, Eli’s behind was getting cold and sore from sitting on the plasteel of the toilet for so long. He finished up the rest of his business and left the ‘fresher. 

Eli sat on his bed, pursing his lips. The thing was, he had a routine meeting in less than an hour. Not enough time to delve into Thrawn’s mind. Not that there would ever be enough time to fully explore that man’s genius.

And Eli didn’t have enough time to write the response that Thrawn’s poem deserved. But he didn’t want to wait. He could, however, compose a little something quickly. Something, that would, perhaps, make Thrawn’s mouth turn up in that cute little smile of his. 

The Lysatran Five-liner. 

Bold, bawdy, and the opposite of decorous.

Perfect. 

Time to write. 

> **There once was a man named Thrawn**
> 
> **who boasted impressive brains and brawn.**
> 
> **Some wonder: is there a chance**
> 
> **to, perhaps, get in his pants,**
> 
> **and wake up next to him at dawn?**

Eli smiled to himself. _This is my best work yet._

His door chime pinged. Kriff. 

He quickly pressed Send. 

“Lieutenant Eli! You’re late!” Vah’nya’s voice was muffled by his door.

“Coming!” Eli called. He shrugged into his uniform jacket.

 _Dammit Thrawn. Even when you’re not here, you make life difficult for me._ Ar'alani was going to be furious.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, thanks for all the support for this self-indulgent story! <3 I honestly wasn't sure if anyone would be interested, so it makes me so happy to read your comments and see the kudos. Thanks so much!
> 
> (Also, poetry is hard. I wish I had Thrawn's mind...)


End file.
